


The Deception of Good

by KMLD6704



Series: To Decieve or to be Honest [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry, Abused Harry Potter, Adopted Hermione Granger, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Bloodlust, Dark Harry, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Evil Albus Dumbledore, F/F, F/M, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Multi, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Bashing, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23959363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KMLD6704/pseuds/KMLD6704
Summary: Hermione Granger always knew she was adopted. That much she could remember. Something was calling her to this one boy, though. Somehow she knew he was special. Maybe he was the key to her past.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Fleur Delacour/Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley/George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom/Theodore Nott/Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: To Decieve or to be Honest [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727332
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	1. Cravings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the book/movie characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling. I only own the original characters and this plot.
> 
> WARNING: This fic is going to be dark! If you don't like any of the themes or relationships DO NOT READ!
> 
> This is my first fanfiction, so I will do my best. I am open to any constructive criticism or grammar corrections. I may add more tags the further I get into it, as well.

Hermione always knew she was adopted. Her parents never told her, but she remembered enough about the orphanage that is had stayed in. She was already four years old when they adopted her.

* * *

The orphanage seemed nice enough on the outside, but no one ever treated each other nice there. She knew that she had been bullied by most of the kids, but she was so young that she didn't know how to tell anyone. Not only that, but she thought it was normal to be in such a way and didn't find it terrible.

There was one girl who was very kind to her, Amaryllis. Little Hermione had always looked up to Ryi. She always made Hermione feel magical like she was walking on air. Ryi was one of the older girls, though. Eventually, she left the orphanage looking for a new chance at life.

This left Hermione all alone, leaving her to deal with the bullies. Before, they had only called her names like bucktooth and frizzface. Now, they hurt her physically. Everyday someone would shove her against the wall and let all the other kids hit her until she was black and blue. Sometimes she was left with broken bones and had her entire face disfigured. When this happened, they would through in a room and tell the caretakers that she was crazy and suicidal. The caretakers never actually bothered to check up on the facts.

Hermione's only reprieve was when they went to the town's library. She would cover up her injuries with long sweaters and easily put a big smile on her face. Even at four years old, Hermione loved books. She craved knowledge. No one knew how, but even before Hermione came to the orphanage, she was reading like a pro. She would always pick up the thick books that talked about topics that were confusing for adults. However, the library became the only place that no one dared disturb Hermione. It was a very public place, so it was her safe haven.

When her parents, Jean and Richard Granger, decided to adopt her, Hermione had finally felt a spark of hope. No more would she be beaten mercilessly for looking or being different. Hermione's first concern when she reached her new home, however, was to hide away her injuries. She knew that she wasn't in danger anymore, but she couldn't bear to let her new family see her as a damaged person. She didn't want any pity. By the next morning, they were gone. She always knew that she could will her injuries away, but whenever she had done that at the orphanage she was always beaten up more for "making her punishment disappear".

* * *

Looking back at her past, Hermione growls in rage. She is 11 now, almost 12, and has still gone through torture in the last 7 years of her life. Stupid kids continue to bully her as if they are somehow more important than her. She currently goes to a school for special individuals where everyone was a book-loving, super-smart student. But of course, she is still the smartest one in the class. Even her teachers can barely handle her. It isn't Hermione's fault if they keep making mistakes in their curriculums.

Hermione's cravings now surpass just a basic concept of an idea. She knows every single detail about anything she has ever read. When she was 9 years old, she finally found a friend who understood her. Logan taught her everything that she couldn't learn in a book. In other words, he was her practical guide. The Grangers, how Hermione thinks of her parents, don't know about Logan though. He isn't who they would consider normal. Logan is also an orphan, but unlike her, he never went to an orphanage. He grew up with a bunch of homeless kids on the streets. If the Grangers knew about him, they would guarantee that Hermione would never see him again.

Logan makes sure Hermione is very capable of handling herself in the world. He has taught exactly how to defend herself from anyone with all different kinds of weapons like guns or her fists. However, Hermione's favorite style of defense, or offense, is using knives. She loves the way she can watch the predator turned victim squirm under the blade. She has practiced on real people, of course. But it isn't like they didn't deserve the same treatment they wanted to inflict upon her. Unfortunately, she never hears their screams because they are always gagged so the "police can't hear them" or something like that. So what if they catch her? She would still give them the same treatment if even tried to arrest her.

Hermione is the boss of everyone whether they know it or not. The kids at school might bully her with whom she'll eventually get her revenge, but for right now, she tortures them in a different way. What a better way to deter bullies than to cause doubt in their own minds. They are mindless, brainless shells of humans that aren't even worthy to look at her much less hurt. The school system says that these are the smartest kids in the district, but to Hermione, they are no smarter than the idiots back at the orphanage.

* * *

Hermione jumps out of her thinking when she hears the final bell of the day ring. She rolls her eyes. The class was just about another boring concept that she already knew everything about. Quadratic equations were just basic math that she mastered back when she was 7. At least it was the final day of school. Hermione could get back home and maybe go find Logan for another "practical lesson".

"Hey Smartass", came a voice.

Of course, the leader of the idiots had to come and spoil the good moment.

"What do you want Dylan?" Hermione said back.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like that you worthless piece of shit!"

"Aw, why not? It's not like you ever say anything worthwhile. Just ask Becca. She's probably just using you to look better while she whores herself out on all the other guys."

"Come here you!" Dylan grabs Hermione by the hair, and she yelps at the pull. He drags her into an empty classroom and dumps her on the ground.

"Now listen here ugly, no one will ever want you. You're just too disgusting and useless to ever become something. I won't be able to show you your place over the summer, so I want you to remember this lesson very clearly, understand."

Hermione inwardly smirks but nods and whimpers on the outside.

"You are going to be my little slut and suck me off. How do you like that? All you are good for is fucking." With that, he pulls down his pants and shoves his cock into Hermione's face. "Suck me, bitch!"

Hermione, finally fed up with the jerk, instead rams her fist into his testicles. While he is howling, she stands up and lets darkness come through the room. "No," she says. "You listen to me. You are not going to bother me again or I will fucking kill you. Do _you_ understand?" Dylan whimpers and looks up at Hermione, terrified. Slowly shadows seem to creep out of the walls and crawl towards the two students. "Now, you are going to pull your pants over your limp dick, walk out of here, and never tell anyone what just happened, okay?" Hermione then gets up and walks out of the classroom with an innocent smile on her face. Maybe, she can finally show the students that she is in charge next year.

* * *

The walk home is long since she missed the bus. But when she walks through the door, Hermione's curiosity is instantly peaked. Going to see Logan has to wait. Sitting in the middle of the Grangers' living room is an older woman with gray hair wrapped in a bun and a stern face. Hermione raises a brow at Jean Granger and sits when she is beckoned to do so.

"Hermione, darling, this woman says she has something of utmost importance to tell us. She said we had to wait until you were home to explain a situation," says Jean.

"Ah, I am sorry I have kept you waiting then, ma'am. I was saying goodbye to some fellow students for the summer and I-"

"Honey, have you gotten into trouble at school?" Richard interrupts.

"No, not that I'm aware of," Hermione frowned at the implication.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, if I may interrupt, my name is Minerva McGonagall and my being here has nothing to do with any discipline or activities that have to do with your daughter's current school. You see, Miss Granger is an exceptional human being," the old woman said.

"Well yes, she is the smartest person in her class on top of going to a school for special children."

"That is excellent, but what I mean to say is that your daughter is a witch. She can produce and yield magic."

"What!" both of the Grangers gasp, "Magic!"

"Yes, and this ability can cause danger if it's not taught properly. Therefore, I would like to invite Miss Granger to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

At this point, Hermione is rolling her eyes. Of course, she is a witch! Anyone with a brain can see that fact. With all the unnaturalness that happens around her? God, you'd think that her "parents" would be smarter. Sick of the adults ignoring her, obviously the most clearheaded person in the room, Hermione decided to speak up. "Professor McGonagall, I assume that you're a professor, I would be happy to go to this school. I have known about my abilities for quite some time and would love to be able to learn more about them."

Professor McGonagall looked back at Hermione in shock. "Yes Miss Granger, I am indeed a professor at Hogwarts. I am surprised that you are aware of your magic. Many of Hogwarts' muggleborn students are not aware of their magic until it is pointed out to them. I assume, then, that you noticed that your magic comes when you are in trouble."

"Oh, not necessarily Professor. It does come to me more easily when I am in trouble, but I can always call it and control it. My reasons for wanting to attend Hogwarts would be to learn more direct spells and other forms of magic."

Jean and Richard are gobsmacked. Their daughter, adopted or not, is a witch? How does she already know about it? They never noticed anything unusual about Hermione other than her being really smart. Maybe they haven't been good parents like they thought they were. They should have noticed something odd like this.

Richard was the first to clear his head. "Um...Professor, you said something about muggleborns. What is that?"

"Ah, well you see Mr. Granger, muggles are what wizards call people with no magic, at least in Britain. Other countries, like America, have other names for the non-magical. A muggleborn is a wizard that has two muggle parents. There are also half-bloods with one muggle parent and one magical parent, and there are purebloods that have two magical parents," McGonagall seemed to hesitate before stating her next words. "Unfortunately, there is some bigotry in the wizarding world just like there is in the muggle world. Some, but not all, purebloods and half-bloods consider muggleborns to be dirty or unworthy."

Richard erupted, "NO! I will not let my daughter be bullied for having us as parents. We will not let her go."

"Richard! Maybe we need to hear a bit more. This is an amazing opportunity for our Hermione, after all," cried Jean. "Imagine how impressed all our friends would be with her. Hermione would be a celebrity."

"Actually Mr. and Mrs. Granger, the wizarding world cannot allow that. The International Confederation of Wizards has in place a Statute of Secrecy in place regarding the muggles' knowledge of magic. This is why you have never heard of it before. Only the immediate family of a muggleborn witch or wizard may have knowledge of magic. If the family refuses the offer of enrolling in a school or breaks the Statute of Secrecy, they will be obliviated, which would erase all knowledge of this world.

Hermione decided she would play on her parents' weaknesses to ensure her enrollment. "Mom, dad? C-could I please go? I mean, I know I might get bullied, but I really want to make you both proud," Hermione tugged at the bottom of her shirt and looked up nervously to complete the act. It worked.

"Of course, sweety! We are already proud of you, but if it means that much to you, we will allow you to go. Won't we Richard?"

"Yes, we will. Your happiness is all that we sweetheart."

McGonagall stole a glance at Hermione as if she knew what was happening, then she cleared her throat. "I will need to be leaving then Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, and Miss Granger," she said while turning to each of them in succession. "I will leave you with this letter. It will grant you with more details on what Miss Granger will need for school. The train to Hogwarts leaves from Platform 9 3/4 at Kings Cross Station on September 1st at 11:00 am. To get onto the platform, you will need to walk in between the barriers of platforms 9 and 10. The best way to enter the station is by leaning against the barrier, and then you will be on the other side."

With that, Professor McGonagall left. Hermione looked at both the Grangers and opened up the letter.

* * *

_To: Miss Hermione Granger_

_The Second Bedroom on the Second Floor_

_3rd House in the Cul-de-sac_

_Hampton, London_

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_The term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. If you have already confirmed your attendance with a professor, no owl will be necessary._

_Yours Sincerely,_

**_Minerva_ ** **_McGonagall_ **

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

* * *

Hermione is surprised at the location's precision in the address but continues to read the list of books and equipment.

* * *

_Books and equipment may be bought in Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley can be located from the muggle world by entering the Leaky Cauldron in London._

**_Uniform_ **

_First-year students will require:  
_

  1. _Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
_
  2. _One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_
  3. _One pair of protected gloves (dragonhide or similar)_
  4. _One winter cloak (black with silver fastenings)_



_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags._

**_Course Books_ **

_All students should have a copy of the following:_

  * _Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_
  * _A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_
  * _Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_
  * _A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_
  * _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_
  * _Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_
  * _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_
  * _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_



**_Other_ ** _**Equipment** _

  * ~~~~_1 wand  
_
  * _1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_
  * _1 set glass or crystal phials_
  * _1 telescope_
  * _1 set brass scales_



_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS._

* * *

"Well, at least they tell us where to get everything," Hermione sighs. "But, to only allow three types of pets and not allow first their own broomsticks is a bit silly. We are going to be throwing spells at each other, and they won't let us get our own brooms?"

"It does make me feel better that they have those rules in place, dear," comforts Jean.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "I'm going to go buy my supplies tomorrow then while you guys work. I assume that wizards have a different currency so I may need to exchange some money. I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back for dinner, though. Bye!"

The Grangers glance anxiously at each other. "Have fun! We are having Lasagna tonight, so do make sure you're back soon."

Hermione hurries out the door, finally free from being cooped for hours. The glance that Richard and Jean gave each other has not been lost on her. She knows it's not about money. Hell, they are in the top 5% of the world. One good thing about living with the Grangers is that they are both high-ranking specialists in their field. It pays a lot. Since Jean can't have any kids, a fact Hermione has found out by overhearing whispered conversations, they spoil her rotten. Hermione currently gets an allowance of £1000 every month, every time she does well on a test it's £100, and any holiday/birthday she gets £2500 from each relative - the Grangers have wealthy relatives too. The Grangers' extended family is huge, as well. So...yeah, Hermione may know that she is spoiled, but she doesn't take it for granted. The moment she discovered the abundance of cash, Hermione had Richard set up a bank account so she could earn interest on it. She hasn't touched it since, other than to add more cash. At this point, Hermione could believe that she is one of the richest teens in the world, or at least in Europe.

The glance that the Grangers gave each other is not about that at all. In fact, their looks might even be sweet. Hermione knows that she is a dark, ruthless person. Even before she went to the orphanage, she recalls a chilling aura that was so powerful that she could feel it coming off of her own body. The aura has diminished over time. Hermione realizes that the aura had been her magic that diminished from the constant contact with muggles. The Grangers do not actually sense the aura per se, but they can tell when something is off. They have that look on their faces every time she goes out of the house. The reason why makes sense, Hermione supposes. Usually, when she leaves the house, it is to meet up with Logan. This is where she is going now.

"Hey! Logan you there?" Hermione calls.

"Yeah, is that you Herm?" Logan calls back, smirking. He is a lanky boy and very skinny due to living in the streets. However, he has an obvious strength about him. His crooked smile gives way to confidence in the way he walks and talks. His hair is a dusty brown that grows a little long past his ears. His dark brown eyes give a feeling of hard-earned survival. Logan's clothes are shabby with holes torn in the shirt and his shoes and fading in his jeans.

"Ugh, just call me Mione. It's better than _Herm_ ," she spits the nickname out with disgust.

"But why not? Mione sounds too nice, and you are not nice."

"Aw...now you just hurt my feelings."

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

Hermione smiles a feral grin and jumps at him. "How about this?"

With Hermione's initiation, the two start at it. Logan dodges Hermione's attack, and they turn to look at each other. Hermione cocks her head at the boy across from her. She calculates his body's tension. She notices him favoring his right foot and prepares her mind for an attack on her left. She sees his hands stretching and reaching for something. Suddenly, Logan lunges at Hermione with a deadly sharp knife, but she is prepared for him. She paries him with a knife of her own, and draws out another knife to catch him. Of course, Logan knows what is coming and knees her in the gut. Hermione grunts and falls to the ground. She kicks leg her out to force Logan down, then stands back up, waiting for the next move.

They continue on for the next two hours until Hermione gets bored of the constant back and forth. They are just fooling around, not even trying very hard. She decides to end the fight then and there. Letting of a wave of dark energy, she marches over to the lanky boy and brings a knife to his throat.

"Aha! So you decided to end the neverending fight," cries Logan. "And even cheated to finish it."

"I did not cheat. I used whatever was at my disposal," sniffs an indignant Hermione.

"Oh, of course. How could I forget? The 'queen' is so gracious to bless me with her wave of terror," he replies sarcastically.

"Hm...I like that. Queen Hermione. Maybe you should call me 'Your Majesty' from now on."

"Ha! like you would ever be a ruler. You would kill them all first."

"Yes, I suppose your right. Speaking of which, I need to be sated."

"Go right on ahead, my sadist," he says while taking off his shirt.

Hermione grins at him and brings a knife to his chest and creates a small line of blood. She starts right below his collarbone and drags it down to his stomach. The line is shallow enough to not cause any damage but deep enough for a deep red to crawl its way to the top of his skin. Hermione's biggest craving, perhaps, is for blood. She loves everything about it. The way it looks, smells, feels, and even tastes. She prefers to cut actual victims after she fights them and hear their screams, another craving. But, Logan is a masochist, so he volunteers to be her project all the time. She slowly licks the blood pouring out of his wound and savors the flavor on her tongue. She laughs at the hissing noise Logan makes and continues to carve designs into his skin. When she finishes she stands up over him and takes in the pure beauty of the now red beads spread across his skin. She notices Logan struggling to regain his feet and helps him up.

"Can't even get up after a fight? What on earth have I done to you?" says Hermione while having a satisfied grin on her face.

"Oh, you know very well what you have done, witch," he says grinning back.

"Two things true in that statement."

"Did your dumb fucking parents finally figure it out?"

"Ew, don't call them my parents, and no, my parents didn't figure it out for themselves. Another witch came by and told them. Apparently, there is a boarding school for wizards and witches.

The grin drops from Logan's face. "Lemme guess. You've decided to go?"

"Yes, I will miss you but..." she trails off.

"But you really want to find out more about magic."

Hermione sighs. "I'm also hoping to discover a bit about my past. It's so obvious that I'm adopted. The Grangers haven't told me, but did they really think I wouldn't remember anything once I arrived at their house?"

"It is pretty shortsighted on their part," He says very matter of factly.

"Well, duh!" Hermione snorts. "For all I know I might be part of a really powerful pureblood family."

"Uh...pureblood?"

"Oh, apparently there are 'classes' in the wizarding world. Muggleborn have two non-magical parents, half-bloods have one magical and one non-magical parent, and purebloods have two magical parents."

"You're probably wrong, then. If I was a pureblood, I wouldn't give up any children. I mean, if I didn't like one, I would probably hide it. I can't imagine any magical person giving up a magical baby to the non-magical world."

"I hadn't thought about it that way."

"Oh my God!" Logan gasps. "I thought of something that the Great Hermione hasn't. 'Your Majesty', I am so sorry for stepping out of bounds," he says while bowing.

Hermione snickers. "Get up you bastard or I'll give you something to actually be sorry about."

"Good luck with that!"

Hermione glances down at her watch and freaks out. "Fuck! I was supposed to be at the Grangers 5 minutes ago."

Logan smiles sadly at her. "I guess this is goodbye then?"

"For now, I still have the whole summer until I have to leave."

Hermione jumps into Logan to give him a hug, then she turns to go, looking forward to that lasagna.

* * *

"Hello?" Hermione called. "I'm home!"

"Sweetie, what have I said about coming home late?" Jean looked at Hermione pointedly.

"Sorry," Hermione said begrudgingly.

Hermione sat down at the dining table where both the Grangers were already sitting. The lasagna, thankfully, still had some steam rising from it. She prepared herself to dig into the delicious meal, then she saw the Grangers give each other another one of those "looks".

"It's just-," Jean bit her lip, "You've been coming home late a lot. You have ever I can remember," she hesitated.

"What your mother is trying to say," Richard interrupted, "Is that we're not sure if you're ready for a boarding school, magic stuff or not, if you can't even come home on time."

"NO! I really want to go to Hogwarts. There's a whole part of me that's missing, and I think that learning magic will complete me," Hermione lied. "I will be able to follow the schedules there because I want to make a good impression. I know I don't have to do that with you guys because I know you care for me," Hermione used two of the Grangers' weaknesses, which are achievements and affection. To finish off the act, she decided to add in a lip tremble and darting eyes.

"Oh, my little angel!" Jean cried. "Yes, we love you, and we want you to do your best."

"Anyway, we already told that professor that we were going. It wouldn't be right to back out now," Richard said gruffly.

Hermione just smiled in response, then dug into her food. Once they finish, She heads up to her room. Hermione throws herself onto her bed and stares up at the ceiling with a big grin on her face. After lying there for a few minutes, she gets herself ready for bed and falls asleep very fast for tomorrow's excitement.

While in her deep sleep, Hermione has the strangest dream. She finds herself in a dark forest with trees that seemed to have grown and stretched in unusual angles. Hermione stumbles over roots and stones as she tries to find some way out of the forest. Eventually she makes her way to a source of light. As she draws nearer, she discovers that a creature is the source of light. But it's not just any creature. Hermione gazes down on the unicorn, a pale, white light. It seems so pure, so innocent. The unicorn is obviously not an adult it's too small and awkward, well as awkward as a unicorn can be, on its feet. She almost feels bad for the unicorn's fate, but it will serve a greater purpose than just be "purifying". Who cares about being purifying anyway. The light doesn't give life, it takes. It fills peoples' heads full of false images of what is the "one true path to life" or "the Greater Good". No. It is the dark that gives. The dark provides people with realistic images of what could happen or what one could become. It doesn't show one destination; it shows multiple.

Hermione smirks at the unicorn as she draws closer to it. She pulls a knife, no an athame out of its sheath. The athame had intricate twists throughout its silver handle along with gleaming emeralds encrusted into it. The blade itself seemed to be the embodiment of evil as it oozed of darkness. Hermione also pulled out a collection of runestones. She couldn't interpret them, but she knew that they were dark. She grabbed one of the runestones used her power, her magic, to activate it. Immediately, a cloud of ink shot out of runestone and enveloped both the athame and the unicorn. Hermione grinned wildly as she watched the magic work. Unicorns were protected creatures of light magic. The only way to use them or obtain their parts is by being light enough to be accepted by the magic. However, there was also a much darker way to gain control over a unicorn.

The cloud continued to roll over the athame and the unicorn. Then, just as suddenly as when the cloud shot out, it stopped. Hermione looked over at the unicorn and cackled wildly. The once pure and innocent was black. It was blacker than coal, blacker than a dark cave. The unicorn seemed to be voidless. It swallowed up any surrounding light. Hermione shot a curse at the now dark creature, and it dropped to the ground. Then, she looked down at her athame it was sparkling and fresh. Instead of giving of tendrils of darkness, it burst forth a bright light. The key to any unicorn was hers.

Hermione woke up in a sheen of sweat. She knew she was just dreaming but it was so vivid, so real. She looked down at her hands and noticed that they were trembling. It wasn't from fear, though. It was from pleasure. Hermione just found another craving.

* * *

Professor McGonagall could hardly believe it. A muggleborn student that can already control their magic? It was unthinkable. Unless...no! No wizarding parent would let their child enter the muggle world. Still, she would bring it to Albus. She reached the headmaster's office and spoke the password. Honestly, the man's obsession with muggle sweets was ridiculous. Reaching the door at the top of the staircase, McGonagall found the old codger call her in before she could knock.

"Ah, Minvera," said Dumbledore serenely, "There you are. I was listening to our new defense teacher tell me a wonderful story. Care for a lemon drop?"

"I'd rather not, thank you," McGonagall responded. She then turned to look at the new teacher for the DADA post with stern eyes. "My name is Minvera McGonagall, and I am the Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor here at Hogwarts."

"A-ah, y-yes. M-my name is Q-Quirinus Quirrel," the man shifted nervously under her glare.

"Well, now that introductions are out of the way, please continue with the story about your athame. You say you found it in Albania?"

"Y-yes, I found it on a v-vampire, who w-was t-trying to use it f-for a d-d-dark ritual."

With that Quirrel pulled out a beautiful athame that was bright and pure. It had a twisted silver handle with emeralds encrusted into it.


	2. Diagon Alley

Hermione made her way through the middle of London looking for the Leaky Cauldron. She knew she was in the right area. The magic energy pulled at her core. She just needed to find the right entrance. Then, Hermione spotted the sign. It looked very dingy, and when she walked into the building, her opinion of wizards dropped pretty low. The Leaky Cauldron seemed to be both an inn and a pub. Nasty looking characters were there too. The place looked like a hub for traffickers and pedophiles. This was the entrance to the wizarding shops?!

Holding in her disgust, Hermione walked up to the man at the bar. "Excuse me, sir? I'm looking for the entrance to Diagon Alley."

The man, who was spelling the counters clean, looked up at her and grinned. He had a small hunch in his back and the most crooked teeth - the Grangers would have been horrified. "Well hello, miss. My name is Tom. I'm the owner of this 'ere place. Yuh said yuh were lookin' for Diagon Alley?"

"That's correct."

"It'll be right out from th' back door. Yuh needs a wand tuh enter by tapping on the brick thas three from th' right then three up from the middle brick. Yer muggleborn, right? I can help yuh if th' wand tapping."

"No thank you, sir. I'll manage just fine on my own," Hermione was starting to get fed up with the plain-spoken wizard and started to walk away.

"Wait! I didn't get yer name."

"I didn't tell you," she smirked then walked right out the back door.

Hermione stared at the wall in front of her. It was completely blank except for a sign on one of the bricks that said "Middle Brick - Diagon Alley". She snorted and followed Tom's instructions to find the correct brick. Hermione glanced around to make sure no one saw her, then reached out her arm. She forced her magic out of her hand until it connected with a magical signature. She pulled on the signature and just like that, the wall started to move.

Even though Hermione was expecting an impressive sight, she couldn't help but gasp at the alley. Her magic felt a surge in power, and a powerful wind almost made her breathless. She slowly walked past the wall and let herself enjoy the moment. She got lost in her thought so much that she didn't even see where she was going until she bumped into another witch.

"Watch where you are going, girl!"

Hermione quickly composed herself. "Sorry!"

"Hmph, kids these days," the woman muttered to herself.

Hermione composed herself and decided to start the shopping she came here for. Her eyes drifted over the shops until they rested upon a tall triangular-shaped building at the end of the alley. The entrance had pillars leading up to the roof that curved from one side to the other as if they were tree trunks. However, it was the words carved into the landing above the pillars that had caught her eye. "Gringotts Bank". Hermione made her way to the doors of the bank. She caught sight of a small man who bowed to her as the bronze doors opened. Something in the back of her head told her that he looked a bit funny, but she shook it away. She could at least try not to judge people, right? After she entered through the bronze doors, another silver set of doors appeared before her. But this time there was a small rhyme on it.

* * *

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,  
_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

* * *

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she read it. It was a challenge hidden in plain sight by pretending to be a warning. But, there were two lines that made her curious. How deep underground did this bank go? Also, what other than gold might be hidden in the bank. Knowing that any answer to her questions would only leave her with more, Hermione continued her way into the bank and froze at what she saw. All the bank tellers seemed about the same height as the man that bowed to her outside. They all seemed to have long ears, noses, and fingers. Every single one had a cross face on as well. Before Hermione could process everything, she heard a little boy speaking to his mother.

"Mother!" the boy complained. "Can we just leave the stupid goblins and go to Fortescue's?"

Hermione's eyes widened at that. There were fucking goblins in charge of the bank, and no one told her? Trying to keep her cool, she walked up to the main bank teller located at the opposite end of the building. She took a deep breath and said in a calm polite voice. "Excuse me, sir, I am here to create an account."

A goblin looked over his position and looked down at her with an expression of disdain. "And who might you be?"

"I know my name to be Hermione Jean Granger, sir. I am Muggleborn or at least Muggle-raised, so I am sorry if I offended you in any manner. I wasn't told that I would be interacting with other species within the wizarding world."

The goblin stared down at her for a few seconds then curled his lips into a smile. Well, Hermione assumed it was a smile; it seemed pretty hostile. "Well then, that changes things, Miss Granger. I am Nurrod, and I will find someone to create your account."

Hermione just nodded, but she was actually surprised that her manners worked for once. Usually, adults or authorities just sneered at her when she tried to apologize for almost anything. Hermione waited for a few minutes while she waited to meet with another goblin. Eventually, Nurrod called over a goblin named "Razel" and said that he would help her with her account creation. Hermione followed the second goblin through the back of the bank until they entered a private office where he then closed the door.

"Miss Granger, I am Razel, and I wish to create your Gringotts account as well as manage it," Razel started.

Hermione beamed. "I would like that very much, sir. What must I do to gain one?"

"The goblin methods are very similar to that of muggles, though a bit more permanent. I would need a drop of blood on the account papers rather than a signature."

"That would be no problem at all. A small drop of blood is nothing for high security."

Razel gave a hostile grin and held out a contract. "I see that you think like a goblin. Most wizards no matter their blood status find the act barbaric, but we view it as insurance. One drop of blood and it guarantees our nation will not lose that customer."

Hermione smirked back and pricked her finger. She watched as her blood was absorbed right into the parchment and glowed briefly. Razel, then, began to explain the basics of the bank, such as the exchange rates, and he handed Hermione her vault key. She started to get up to say her thanks and leave when Razel stopped her. "Before you leave, I must ask you something on the goblin nation's behalf. Nurrod told me about your respect towards him earlier, and respect is rarely given to us from wizards. You, Miss Granger, are the first wizard or witch to show goblins respect in about twenty-eight years."

Hermione gasped at this. "Twenty-eight years? That's dreadful! How do you even tolerate us?"

"Well, that is the reason you are still here. The goblin nation has tasked me to ask for an alliance with the House of Granger. Due to the fact that you are the only known magical Granger, the alliance is up to you and not your parents to accept."

"This is certainly intriguing, however, I must know what this entails first. I may be sympathetic, but I'm not stupid."

"Oh, of course not," the goblin grinned at this. "My kind has a way of guessing one's true nature, and you have not disappointed me. We appreciate clever minds and the ability to analyze a situation before rushing into it recklessly. Part of our decision also has to do with your amount of gold. You will greatly add to our wealth. As to how the alliance benefits you, your vault will be in our most secure part of the bank, and you will be able to call on us for aid in any task that Magic allows. It benefits the goblin nation by adding to our wealth and giving us the ability to call upon you for aid in the same way."

Hermione hesitated before asking her next question. "This secure vault in the bank, it wouldn't happen to be in the same spot that the creature from the challenge is hidden would it?"

Razel laughed, "You keep making this better. Yes, they are both hidden in the same spot, but that is all I am allowed to depart to you about the challenge."

"Well, then, I would love to be allies. I assume there is another blood contract to sign?" With that Razel took out another contract and Hermione pricked her finger and pressed it against the parchment. With a glow, the alliance had been made. "As my first call for aid, I have a personal lineage matter to handle. I assume that Gringotts can trace back family lines."

"Yes, Gringotts can trace someone's lineage by using the same blood magic used in our contracts. However, due to the immense amount of research, work, and time it takes, we don't do it very often."

"That's what I would like done for myself then. I have known that I was adopted since I can remember. I, of course, have reason to believe that my parents are or were actually a witch or wizard themselves."

"I'll let someone know to get right on it. I must warn you that it may take six months to two years of work before we discover your true lineage, but we always get results."

"Thank you, Razel. If that is all, I must say goodbye."

"Before you leave, I must give you this ring and athame as a gift from the goblin nation,"

Razel gave Hermione a silver ring that had tiny engravings on it and a huge black gem in the middle that glowed. The athame seemed a bit more Celtic in design. It had a black leather handle and curved inwards in the middle. The final detail on the athame was the language of the goblins written across the blade.

”The ring signifies your relationship with the goblins. Anyone who sees it should know better than to engage with you in any violent way unless they want to face the wrath of our nation,” the goblin explained. “In case of an emergency, it also contains a portkey that you can activate by saying 'Razel'. A portkey is an object that lets you travel from any place to one fixed point. This one will take you straight to this office. The athame is for any rituals you perform as well as your protection. It is designed to double as a dagger in case of close contact danger. If you use this weapon, you will not be punished by any wizard. The athame is goblin-wrought; therefore, you may only harm those who wish harm upon you - this is inscribed on the blade.”

"Thank you, Razel. This is truly an honor," Hermione gaped at her gift.

"Precisely, Miss Granger. This is the biggest honor, but one, that our nation may gift. Now, as for saying goodbye, you may say 'May gold flow right into your wife's purse'."

Hermione laughed. "Well then, may gold flow right into your wife's purse, Razel."

Razel smirked. "May you be drenched in the blood of your enemies, Miss Granger."

Still laughing, Hermione made her way out of the bank. People stared at her obvious enjoyment with the goblins and muttered to themselves how someone could like such disgusting creatures. She, then, made her way over to Ollivanders to get her wand. Hermione was both nervous and excited. Sure, she could control her magic just fine without a wand, but she knew that a wand would help her focus more on harder spells before she could control them without a wand. Entering the shop, Hermione wrinkled her nose. The shop was extremely dusty and was filled with the aura of an enemy. Just being in the shop suffocated her darker magic. Maybe it was the presence of so many light magic wands, or it might be Ollivander himself. As Hermione was thinking to herself, she didn't see the old man coming from behind the counter.

"Hello, my dear. Are you here to pick up a wand?"

"Shit!" Hermione cursed under her breath. She shouldn't get distracted like that. "Well, if this is Ollivander's and I haven't been here before, I should think that I am here to pick up a wand."

"Of course, of course, my dear. Don't mind me. I'm an old man and say silly things from time to time." Ollivander looked back at Hermione with a guarded look. She was convinced that the light magic was coming from the man.

"Okay...so, what must I do to acquire a wand? And my name is Hermione Granger."

"Step up to the counter for me, Miss Granger. I will give you a wand to try."

Hermione snorted while he left to grab a wand. He just guessed until he found the right one? How is that for time efficiency? The first wand Ollivander brought her was fir with a phoenix feather core. He told Hermione to give it a wave, and when she did, the wand practically went haywire. She next tried an English oak and unicorn hair wand. It was so unsuited for her that she couldn't even pick it up. Next came red oak with dragon heartstring, hazel with phoenix feather, and pear and dragon heartstring. None of them worked for her. Hermione was starting to get fed up with the guessing and random pickings.

"Mr. Ollivander, is there some way to narrow down a wand based on its responses?"

"Well, yes, we are doing exactly that. we know that the pairings tried do not work out. But fear not! The longest it has taken someone to find their wand is two hours, so I'm sure we will find it soon."

Hermione was astounded at the clueless man. "You don't use deduction?!"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Miss Granger," he answered back, confused.

"Unbelievable! Okay then, why didn't the past woods work for me?"

"Ah...I see what you mean now. The English oak, pear, and hazel didn't work for you at all because you do not succumb to your feelings when faced with a choice. The fact that the fir and the red oak worked better than the others suggests that you are focused, intelligent, and can adapt to a situation."

"So you might say that I am determined to achieve the best outcome in a situation, but if the worst comes to pass, it won't affect my future actions."

"Hm," Ollivander looked thoughtful, "I might just have found the right wood for you."

He pulled out three more boxes and explained that all three were of yew wood but with different cores. Hermione tried the one with the unicorn hair just to get it out of the way. Like she thought, the wand wood hummed in her hand but wouldn't send off any sparks. With the dragon heartstring and the phoenix feather, the wood had the same reaction and the cores reacted better, but they still weren't right. Hermione looked up at Ollivander in exasperation.

"Are there any other wand cores than unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix feather?"

"Yes, but I find that they usually don't work well for most witches and wizards. I don't usually work with other cores."

Hermione blew up. "YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT YOU DON'T LIKE WORKING WITH OTHER CORES SO YOU JUST DON'T? WHAT ABOUT ME? ARE YOU REALLY THAT IDIOTIC OF A PERSON THAT YOU WOULD DENY CERTAIN PEOPLE BETTER CORES JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE THEM?!" At this point, Ollivander was looking at her terrified. Hermione took a deep breath and continued in a calmer voice. "Mr. Ollivander, if you don't have any other wand cores, I am just going to have to find another wandmaker. Clearly, you aren't the best wandmaker to buy from."

"No! Wait!" He called out. "I do have one more you can try."

"You should have brought it out earlier, then. Well, let's see it."

Ollivander walked through the rows of wands to the very back. He picked out a box that was obviously hidden in a safe place as compared to the rest of the wands.

"This wand, Miss Granger, is brittle meaning it is a very loyal wand. It is 13 3/4 inches with yew wood."

Hermione took the wand in her hand. The wood once again hummed against her hand, and she swished the wand. Instantly, she felt powerful. A wave of energy came up around her so strong that it lifted her up in a small explosion of magic. Hermione beamed down at her new wand. She looked over at Ollivander who, once again, looked terrified.

"Mr. Ollivander, I do believe this is my chosen wand. Will you tell me the wand core?"

He took a shaky breath. "The wand core is threstral heartstring. One of the darkest wand cores there is."

Hermione just grinned back. "Ah, now that's something you should keep in mind. Isn't it, Mr. Ollivander? How much for the wand?"

"S-seven galleons."

Hermione pulled out seven galleons from her purse and handed them to the wandmaker. Earlier she had taken out a substantial amount of wizarding currency from Gringotts. She, then, just turned toward the door and was about to leave when she thought of something.

"Oh and Mr. Ollivander? Before you think of telling any of your 'light magic' friends about my wand, you might want to consider this," Hermione raised her left hand and showed him her ring from the goblin alliance. "If you tell anyone about my 'darkness', I will make sure the goblin nation knows and that they consider it an act of violence towards their ally," Ollivander's face paled dramatically, and Hermione flounced out of the shop feeling a rush of adrenaline from her overload of power.

Hermione went on her way to her next destination, Madame Malkin’s. As she made her way into the shop for robes, she felt immensely satisfied with the fear in Ollivander's eyes. As she made her way into the new shop, Hermione automatically found herself stifled. The shop, though sensible, had an extremely light aura around it. She couldn't help but wonder where all the dark wizards went. Maybe they just deal with it for a while.

Hermione made her way over to Madame Malkin, "Excuse me madame, I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm here to buy some robes."

Malkin, who was stitching up some outfits, turned around and stared at Hermione, "Hogwarts student?"

"Yes, I believe I need some black robes and a winter cloak."

"Of course! I've been running this shop for many years. Hogwarts students always come around."

Madame Malkin began to get Hermione situated on a stand to take some measurements. Much to Hermione's delight, she kept forcing her movements in every way possible. Hermione soon began to get fed up with this woman and felt her anger rise, "Could you please just tell me where to move?! I'm not your doll!"

"Well I never!" Malkin exclaimed.

The seamstress, then, did something strange with the glasses she was wearing. Hermione was quite sure what she did, only that the result wasn't good. Malkin stared at Hermione then gasped.

"Miss Granger, I will take care of your robes and cloak today, but after that I'm afraid I won't be able to do business with you," She walked away to start sewing.

"Well, I wonder what brought that on," Hermione said sarcastically while rolling her eyes. "The woman's a bloody bitch!"

She would be back for the final adjustments later, but Hermione once again left a shop in search of another one. This next one, however, was hopefully to be her favorite. Hermione made her way into Flourish and Blotts. She just knew from the outside that it was a bookshop. Books had been her friends for as long as she could remember. She breathed in the fresh scent of books, then immediately went to work. First, she picked up the schoolbooks on the list, then she searched for practical charms. Hermione scanned the books for a shrinking charms, weightless charms, and enlarging charms. She took out her wand to try a few of the spells.

"Reducio," she muttered on one of her books.

"I do hope your planning on paying for that," came a kindly voice.

Hermione looked up and noticed an elderly man watching her from behind the paying counter. He wasn't, however, unsettling as Ollivander was, "You must be either Mr. Flourish or Mr. Blotts. I'm Hermione Granger, and yes, I'm planning on buying these books for school. I do need to know how to carry this stuff around, though."

The shopkeeper looked surprised, "I take it your a new student, then. I am Blotts. My partner, Flourish, died a few years ago, but I keep the name in his honor. I'm surprised that you are researching for spells this early on. Last I checked, students aren't allowed to use magic outside of school. No matter the circumstances, you could get your wand taken away."

"That's not very thoughtful," said Hermione. "What if a student gets into some sort of trouble. In the muggle world, their are many dangerous figures that are a threat to children. I assume the same for wizards. Muggle children are taught to defend themselves however they can. How could a magical child defend themselves if they can't use magic!"

"I agree with you, Miss Granger. However, there is not much we can do. The Ministry of Magic keeps a tight reign on tracking underage magic. It's called the Trace and stays on a minors wand until they're of age. I don't think you have to worry about. You haven't been caught yet, which means that a Trace was never placed on your wand."

Hermione chuckled, "That's probably because Ollivander was too scared."

"Scared, Miss Granger?"

"Are you afraid of dark magic, Mr. Blotts?" Hermione asked with wide eyes.

"Hardly, but I can see Ollivander's hesitance. He's a crony of Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Albus is practically the king of light magic itself. He believes that all dark magic should be banned, but I believe that there are many discovers to be made. The only way that can happen is through dark magic."

"Do you have any books about dark magic?"

Blotts' face got an excited look, "Yes! They're just in a locked back room. I serve both light and dark wizards alike, so I only let people know about my stash if they asked."

Blotts led Hermione to a room in the very back of his shop. A huge lock was guarding the room. "No light spell can break this lock," he said. Inside the room was an array of books that seeped in darkness. Some of the books were attacking each other. Some were had colorless ink flowing out of it. And some even had screams coming from them. "Take your pick," said Blotts.

Hermione looked around in awe at the books around her, "This is incredible. It must have taken years to find this many books."

"Indeed it has."

"I think I'll take these two," Hermione chose a ratty looking book, and one of the screaming ones. The ratty looking one was called _The History of Dark Arts_ _Practitioners_. The screaming book was called _Curses for the Common Enemy_."I assume there's a way to stop the screaming?"

"Just point your wand at the the book and say 'Oscausi'. A simple silencing charm won't work one dark magic, so you must completely seal the mouth. The spell basically takes away the mouths of the screams."

"I'm guessing this doesn't just work on books?" Hermione smirked while casting the spell.

"Your guess would be correct. Now, I don't believe in testing on unwilling subjects, but I understand that you may not be the same. I can feel a dark aura around you. It's very thick," He reached out as if to try and touch the aura.

"Well, I best be going I'll gather my books and make my way to your counter."

Hermione led the way back to the main entry of the shop and collected her schoolbooks. The total came to 13 galleons for her required books. The books on dark arts didn't cost a thing because Blotts said "the dark books are a gift, Miss Granger, for one so willing to experiment with those arts." Blotts last recommendation to Hermione was that she go to Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. She thanked him and told him she would go another time.

Hermione made her way around the last few places in Diagon Alley. She went to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, Mulpepper's Apothecary, and Scribbulus Writing Implements. She was a little disgusted that Hogwarts didn't allow pencils or paper. Wasn't this Dumbledore supposed to be pro-muggle. Obviously, the people had it wrong. She knew that getting involved in the dark arts meant that she had to respect those who respected her, which included muggles. The time to destroy people came when the disrespected her first. Well, maybe a few exceptions could be made. Hermione shook her head as she realized she'd been standing in the middle of the road for a few minutes without moving. She went back to Madame Malkin's for her robes. The madame gave her the robes, but didn't even look at her customer. Hermione rolled her eyes, could Malkin's affiliations be anymore obvious?

As she headed out of the alley, Hermione actually grew excited for her new wizarding life. Somehow, she knew that she belonged there and couldn't wait for the classes to start. The school might be led by a light and anti-dark wizard, but she could easily fix that with time. She would make sure the world would become hers to mold exactly how she wanted it.

Hermione waited at the bus stop to go home, but while she was waiting she felt a small tug in her chest. She quickly looked up to see a car rush by. In the backseat of that car was a small boy with dark hair and green eyes. She watched the car go by and shook of the feeling of the tug. Hermione got on the bus and headed home.

* * *

The boy in question also felt the tug. He glanced out the window to see a girl with a bush of curly brown hair and brown doe-eyes just staring back at him. He wanted so badly just to run out and hug her.

A voice interrupted his thoughts, "BOY! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW? WE DON'T WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW THAT YOU LIVE WITH US!"

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon," the boy looked straight ahead and kept his face out of view. How he wished this torture would be over. The boy had only dreamed of murdering his uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia, and cousin Dudley, but then he'd really get in trouble. He just knew that some day his time would come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes!!! We get to see Harry, finally! Hermione will actually meet him in the next chapter, as well as Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this. I'm hoping to work the first book of my series up to year 5. If anyone has suggestions they have for the fic, let me know.


End file.
